My Legacy
by wandb
Summary: WINNER of the Tissue Award in the Season of our Discontent contest. "I close my eyes, and I see Bella. I always see Bella."  AH. B/E. Rated M.


**Summary: **"I close my eyes, and I see Bella. I always see Bella." AH. B/E. Rated M.

**Warnings and Disclaimer:** I don't own anything. Contains difficult topics, such as illness and death.

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><p><strong>CLOCKS<strong>

The clock next to my bed clicks with each passing second, serving as a reminder of time slipping through my fingers. They put it here the other day, though I have no idea why. It doesn't matter what time it is. They've gathered at the other side of the room and talk in soft murmurs, glancing my way with looks of pity. I don't want their pity, so I close my eyes.

I see Bella. I always see Bella.

* * *

><p><strong>NEW YEAR'S EVE<strong>

"Edward, you have to come with me," Emmett practically begged. "I don't know any of the people who'll be there. They're all Rosie's friends from work."

I shook my head and rolled my eyes. "You know how I hate New Year's Eve. It's always such a scene."

"Come on, please? Besides, Rosie's got some cute friends…" he faded off, raising his eyebrows at me.

It had been a while since I'd had a girlfriend, and I had to admit, the idea of getting laid sounded tempting. "Fine, I'll go. But you're driving. I'm not staying sober if I'm being forced to go."

"No need to stay sober. We can crash there." He smiled, seemingly pleased with his powers of persuasion.

The party was actually a lot more enjoyable than I'd expected. Emmett's girlfriend Rosalie could be kind of brazen, but amusing. She and her roommates had a house on a canyon with a huge pool and a great view. White lights were hung overhead and sparkled off the water. I was really glad I came. I realized I'd been so busy with work that I hadn't had a chance to slow down and enjoy myself. I sipped a beer as I watched the sunset turn the sky brilliant shades of orange and red. It was peaceful as only a spectacular sunset can be.

Then I saw her.

She was so beautiful it took my breath away. She was talking to Rosalie and a couple of girls I didn't know, absent-mindedly twirling her long, dark brown hair around her finger as she spoke. She was animated and bubbly, and her smile was warm and inviting. I had to talk to her. Just as I stood to walk over and introduce myself, she turned and caught my eye, flashing me a friendly smile. I tried to play it cool, but the damage had been done – I was beyond intrigued.

"Hi, Edward," Rosalie said cheerfully as I approached. "Are you having fun?"

"Yeah, this is a great party," I answered Rosalie but couldn't take my eyes off the brunette beauty.

Rosalie laughed, seeing right through me. "This is Bella." Then she pointed at me. "Bella, this is Edward, Emmett's friend."

We shook hands, and I vaguely remembered being introduced to the other girls there, but I was completely mesmerized by Bella. Even her name suited her – beautiful.

We spent the entire night talking, lounging on stiff wooden chairs in the back yard. I barely noticed that it was cold outside and the chairs were uncomfortable; I just wanted to have Bella to myself. It was funny that all I could think about when I'd agreed to come was the potential for getting laid. Now all I could think about was how to keep this amazing girl interested. I was pretty confident with girls normally, but she had my stomach in knots.

"Come inside, guys, the ball's dropping," Emmett yelled from the back door.

We stood and walked inside slowly. She seemed as reluctant as I was to burst the bubble we were in.

Everyone counted down the last seconds of the year as the ball dropped, and at midnight, I cupped her face in my hands and kissed her. Long after everyone else's kisses were done and the party resumed, I still held Bella in my arms.

Happy New Year, indeed.

* * *

><p><strong>FIGHT<strong>

"Let me know how it goes with Dr. Gerardy?" Bella said as she gave me a kiss on the cheek and ran out the door. "I'll have my phone on."

"Okay, I'll call you later."

I wasn't worried about it. I'd been under a lot of stress. That was all.

The doctor ran a slew of tests and sent me on my way. He didn't seem concerned.

I called Bella and told her I was fine.

The phone rang as we were finishing up dinner. It was Dr. Gerardy. My test results were in, and he wanted me to come into his office.

I wondered why he wouldn't just tell me over the phone.

I was a little nervous as I went to sleep that night, but I was confident it was nothing to worry about. It had only happened a couple of times, and I was sure it was just stress related. It wasn't as if I dropped things all the time.

Dr. Gerardy looked serious and morose when he came into his office. I'd brought Bella along, because she insisted on being there for me. She was worried about me, so I didn't object, even though she was a little over-protective.

He pulled out my file and jumped right in. It was bad news. I couldn't process all that he was saying – my mind was in shock. I felt as though I were under water –muddled and unclear. Dr. Gerardy was talking, but I could only hear a few words.

_Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis _

_Lou Gehrig's disease_

_Nervous System disorder_

_No cure_

_Terminal_

I couldn't think. Bella gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. Apparently she'd heard of it.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I needed all the strength I had to ask my next question. "How long do I have?"

"Three to five years."

We left the doctor's office, and I was quiet and numb. I knew I should have asked a million more questions, but I couldn't make my mouth say the words. I was too stunned to even shed a tear. It hadn't sunk in yet. I didn't want it to sink in. I didn't want it to be true.

Bella was strong and supportive, confident I could prevail. Where she got her resolve I'd never know, but I fed off her strength. Over lunch at our favorite café, we talked about how I was going to beat this. I decided I wouldn't let this defeat me. I was a fighter.

* * *

><p><strong>HAPPY BIRTHDAY <strong>

"I want to make you a special dinner – for your birthday," Bella said, grabbing my hand across the center console of my car.

I hated making a big deal out of my birthday, but if Bella wanted to cook for me, I certainly wouldn't deny her. We'd only been together for a few weeks, but she already had me completely wrapped around her finger, although she had little idea just how much I really liked her. I would have done anything for her.

When I arrived at her apartment later that night, she told me she'd made her roommates stay with their boyfriends, so we had the whole place to ourselves for the entire night. My mind raced with possibilities, and the sexy smile on her face let me know she had similar thoughts.

I lit candles while she put the finishing touches on dinner. I was so enthralled watching her work in the kitchen. She was so focused, but she made it all look easy. She'd made my favorite meal – Chicken Piccata, and I loved her even more for her thoughtfulness.

"This is amazing, you know that?" I said, as I grabbed her hands across the table.

She flashed the smile that only I got to see. "You're what's amazing. Happy Birthday." She stood up and leaned across the table as I did the same, meeting in the middle for a kiss. It quickly turned passionate, as our kisses often did, and she pulled away with a grin on her face.

"If you keep that up, my nice dinner will go to waste."

I laughed because she was right. Dinner would have been forgotten in an instant.

Later, after we'd cuddled up on the couch to watch a movie and devoured a slice of birthday cake, she led me down the hall to her room. The anticipation of spending an entire night alone hit me with full force. I needed her.

I watched her every move as she reached for the hem of her shirt and lifted it over her head. God, she was so beautiful. Following her lead, I took my own shirt off, my eyes never leaving hers. As she reached behind her back to release her bra, I pulled her against me and slid the straps off her shoulders, too impatient to wait any longer. I needed to feel her body against mine. I wanted her with every part of me.

"You don't know what you do to me." My voice was deep and husky, filled with desire for the incredible woman in my arms.

"I think I have an idea," she said playfully, grinding her hips against my erection through my jeans.

That was all I needed. Our hands were frantic, removing our clothes in a desperate frenzy to be close to one another. I wanted to feel every inch of her. I gently pushed her back onto the bed, resting my weight on top of her. She wrapped her legs around me, and I wished I could crawl inside her and never leave. She was soft and warm, but she had a fire I found irresistible.

I slipped my hands between her legs, and she shivered from my touch. She was ready for me, and I couldn't wait to be inside her. We kissed and panted as our hands roamed. She grabbed my length, and I almost came right then. I was so hard it hurt.

"Shit," I hissed. "I need –"

"I know," she moaned, pushing her hips into my hand.

"Condom?"

She shook her head. "No need. I'm on the pill. I'm safe."

"Me too." I didn't waste any time as I lined myself up and pushed into her.

She moaned and scratched my back as I moved inside her. We went slow. We went fast. We ebbed and flowed like a wave, completely in sync and in tune with each other. I'd never experienced anything like it before in my life. God, she was perfect.

Later, as I lay in her bed, with her in my arms, I knew there would never be another woman. She was it for me.

"I love you," I whispered, even though I knew she was asleep. Somehow just saying it out loud made it real.

* * *

><p><strong>GOLF<strong>

I think back to the night we met. What I wouldn't give to hold her like that again, so carefree. In so many ways, it seems like just yesterday. I can still feel the chill in the air as we sat and talked on uncomfortable chairs in Rosalie's back yard. I can still see the colors of the sky as I'd watched the sunset. I can still feel how my heart had raced just being in her presence. Yet it's all so different now.

Emmett and a few other friends from college have arranged a fundraiser for me. I tried to argue with them, embarrassed about asking my friends and family for money, but they insisted. They know how expensive ALS can be, and how much it has already set my family back. I hate that I'm a burden to them, but when I mention it, they get upset, so I drop it.

They've put together a golf tournament with a silent auction. I am astounded at what my friends have been able to do. I never realized how many friends I had. Of course, I can't play golf anymore, but Emmett and I ride around in a golf cart and talk to everyone. It's a beautiful day, and everyone is having fun. I'm having fun. I see friends haven't seen since grade school. I see friends from college. I'm overwhelmed at the outpouring of love I receive. It's humbling and incredibly heartwarming.

People tell me I'm an inspiration, that my fight against this wretched disease has given them hope and purpose. I don't feel like that, but I'm happy to hear that this thing that's happening to me has a silver lining. I tell my friends to always live life to the fullest – to never take anything for granted. It's something I know most people can't do. I know I never could until I found myself here. ALS is cruel – it leaves your mind intact but disintegrates your body. I appreciate every little thing my body has done. Even though it's breaking down, it's also sustaining me, giving me time I so desperately want. I can't explain it. I never will be able to explain it.

After the golf game, my friends arranged a gourmet dinner. I sit off to the side, because eating is hard for me, and I'm self-conscious about it. Bella and Elizabeth sit with me, and I almost cry as I look out over the group of my closest friends. I'm incredibly lucky to know such amazing people.

A local band plays while the auction is going on. My friends from various parts of my life have generously donated auction items. I know money is tight for a lot of people, but you'd never know it by the outpouring of charity. Even the band donated their time. As the night wears on, people start to dance and get a little wild. It's typical for my friends, and I wish I was out there with them. I remember how I used to go to see this band play at the local bar. We used to get so crazy. I never thought I'd miss dancing, but I do. I miss it so badly. Sometimes it's the little things that bother me.

People keep coming up and talking to me. My speech is really slurred now, and I can tell it makes people uncomfortable. Thankfully, Bella is at my side and translates for me when my friends don't understand. She's my saving grace, as always. Some people talk really loudly or really slowly. They see my body and assume I'm mentally not all here. I can't say I blame them.

My friend Carlisle, who I haven't seen in ages, couldn't stop the tears from flowing as he talked to me. He's the toughest person I know, and I've never seen him cry before. It was a strange experience.

Another friend walks up to me slowly toward the end of the night. I can tell she's reluctant, as I've seen her several times throughout the evening nervously glance in my direction. I know my appearance, crippled and thin, makes people uneasy, and I'm so happy she finally came and talked to me. Kate was my first crush when I was seven years old and my neighbor from the time I was born. She's crying as she talks to me, saying her goodbyes. She doesn't think she'll ever see me again. I wonder if she's right.

* * *

><p><strong>HAWAII<strong>

I loved the smell of plumerias that hit me the minute we got off the plane. It was so hot outside, and the trade winds blew lightly, cooling our over-heated skin. I smiled because there was nothing quite like the feeling of being on vacation.

I hadn't taken a real vacation in years; I was always working. I had a very high stress job that required me to put in a lot of hours. Bella surprised me at Christmas with plane tickets for February, saying how much we needed to get away. At first, I was reluctant, because it was a horrible time for me to take a vacation, but of course, I caved. I would never deny Bella anything.

Our hotel room had a sweeping view of the ocean, and we spent many nights relaxing on our balcony, listening to the sound of the waves.

We made love in the mornings and the afternoons. We sipped cocktails by the pool, and ate fresh fish by tiki torch over the ocean. It was magical.

On the last night of our trip as we walked along the boardwalk by the beach, I got down on my knee and asked her to marry me. I hadn't planned it out, and I didn't even have a ring, but I knew I wanted her forever.

* * *

><p><strong>HANDS <strong>

I didn't even want to go on that vacation, but it's one of my fondest memories. It was when she promised to be mine forever. We were so happy and in love. Back then, I mistakenly thought I had all the time in the world and was so serious about my work. Now, I have to face the reality that I will never make love to my wife again, and work seems inconsequential. I think back to our last time together, about a year after the diagnosis. It wasn't a big production. There was no special occasion. It had just been the two of us needing to connect with one another. Had I known then it would be the last time in my life I would ever experience her, I would have made it last. I would have made it special. I would never have let her go. Now all I have are my memories. I will never be that intimate with her again, and that thought brings tears to my eyes.

I let out a long sigh. Each day I live with this disease is harder than the day before. It's a never-ending struggle to stay positive. My body is deteriorating around me, leaving me trapped in my mind. This week has been especially tough. I no longer have functionality in my hands. I can do some things, but nothing that requires any dexterity. I fought it for as long as I could, telling myself it was mind over matter. I _need_ my hands. I want to hold my wife and my baby girl, but one day I woke up and everything was just gone. It's isolating beyond words. I'm trying to stay hopeful, to find peace in the little things. It's the only thing that keeps me going.

It's my favorite time of the day. They are gone, and it's just me, Bella and Elizabeth now. I know the hospice people mean well, but I need my family around me. They are so clinical, and I need Bella. I hear her singing the ABC's with Elizabeth in the other room, and their voices are music to my ears. Bella's cooking – I can hear the pots clanging. I picture my precious little girl, sitting on the barstool opposite the kitchen, watching her mom cook dinner with a huge smile on her face. It's such a simple thing, but I don't take anything for granted anymore. Bella's always been such a wonderful cook. I stand up to go to them; I don't want to be in my room alone anymore. It takes me a long time to walk now, but I will fight with everything I have not to lose this simple freedom. I am a fighter, and I want to be with my family.

Bella is all smiles when she sees me come into the room. She runs over to help me.

"I'd have come and gotten you," she says sweetly, grabbing my elbow to help me to my seat.

"I didn't want to bother you. Besides, I'm not helpless, and you guys sounded like you were having a lot of fun." My words slur, but Bella can understand me. She is patient with my labored speech, which I appreciate so much. It makes me feel normal again. She has always understood me better than anyone.

"I'm so glad you joined us." We are a family again, and for a moment, I can forget everything else.

Despite her infallible strength, this is hard for Bella. I can see it in her eyes when she looks at me, but she's so unbelievably loyal to me she'd never complain. I don't know what I did to deserve her, but I honestly don't know how I could ever live without her.

"Daddy!" Elizabeth says happily as she runs to sit on my lap. I can't hug her the way I want to, but I can still smile. I can still tell her how much she lights up my life.

"Elizabeth, be careful not to jump on Daddy too roughly, okay?" Bella has returned to the kitchen, and I feel content. I'm with my girls. My lovely girls.

I want so much for my daughter. I want her to have a happy and fulfilling life. I want her to know the kind of love I've known. Mostly I wish that she didn't have to watch her father die. It will be my biggest regret. This fucking disease!

* * *

><p><strong>ELIZABETH <strong>

"Edward, it's time." Bella's voice woke me from a sound sleep. Those were the words I'd worried about since we first found out Bella was pregnant. Neither one of us was expecting to get pregnant so soon after our wedding. We were both panicked when we found out. We thought we were too young – that we needed to travel before we were burdened with a child. How I could have ever thought of a child as a burden eluded me. It was just something I had to experience to understand.

When Bella uttered those words the morning she went into labor, I knew it was my job to be there for her. She'd told me many times how scared she was about giving birth. She'd heard so many horror stories and watched too many TV shows and didn't know how she'd react. The unknown scared her, but I was always confident. My Bella could do anything. I knew this would be no different; she'd just put her mind to it and make it happen. The trick was getting her to believe it.

I tried to be paternal – strong, stoic, confident. But when I saw my baby girl for the first time, I broke down. She was so tiny and so beautiful. She was me. She was Bella. She was everything.

As long as I lived, I would never know a more powerful moment than that. I was a father.

* * *

><p><strong>WALKING<strong>

Elizabeth is a little older now. I don't know if it's because I'm more observant than I used to be, but I can see how quickly she's changing. Each day, she's a little different, and I'm so thankful I've gotten to see her grow. I didn't know how much I'd get to see. She's so smart and funny, and she has her own little personality that's just breaking free. She's not a clone of either of us. She's herself, and it's wonderful. Each moment I spend with her means the world to me. Every now and then I'm overcome with grief, thinking about how I'll never walk my daughter down the aisle on her wedding day, or get to meet my grandchildren. But I have to bury those feelings – there's nothing productive that comes from that.

Last week was the last time I walked. It's hard for me now, being wheelchair ridden, especially without my hands. I'm completely at the will of others. It's scary knowing I'm helpless, but I know Bella will come to me, and that gives me comfort. I knew the day would come when I couldn't get around, but I hadn't prepared for how I'd feel when it actually happened. I wish I would have run more when I was healthy. I wish I would have gone mountain climbing that one summer when my friend Jasper had invited me. I wish I'd run a marathon. I'll never walk again. I know that empirically, but I'm still clinging to some desperate hope that I can beat this. It's a ridiculous notion, but I'm not ready to face the truth.

* * *

><p><strong>SUNSHINE<strong>

My situation has worsened significantly. Things I could do only last week are now impossible. The doctors and nurses try to help, but we all know I'm fighting a losing battle. Each day my body is noticeably weaker than the day before. It's speeding up, and I'm helpless to stop it.

All I want to do is go outside. I want to feel the sun on my face and the wind in my hair. These days, I take stock in the little things, and I never realized how much I'd miss being outside until I wasn't able to go anywhere. They tell Bella it's a bad idea - that it'll be too hard on everyone involved, but she persists. She knows how much of an outdoorsman I was in my youth, and she knows how much I need this.

God, I love her.

It takes all three of them to load me up into the van, but I'm finally on my way to the beach. My deteriorating body can never display the excitement I feel. I used to live on the beach when I was young. My friends and I would spend long, lazy summer days basking in the heat. We'd jump off the cliffs adjacent to the shore and then lie in the hot sand to warm up. We'd play volleyball on the beach and check out the girls in bikinis. I long for those carefree days. I long for a time when my biggest worry was whether or not Jessica Stanley had the hots for Mike Newton.

Mostly I long for the sun. Its rays are healing in ways I can't explain. I feel free and healthy again, just like that time in Hawaii. If I close my eyes, I can feel the same way I felt when I was sixteen. The smell of the ocean and coolness of the breeze is a sedative to me, lulling me into peace. I can forget my reality.

When we get home this afternoon, they gather at the other side of my room and speak as though I'm not here, which they do a lot these days. I want to yell, "I'm here!" but I can't.

"We shouldn't have allowed him to go. It was too hard on him."

"He won't survive another trip. It's too difficult."

"I'll talk to Bella."

And just like that, I know I'll never go outside again. At least not to the beach. I close my eyes and remember the sun on my face and the smell of the ocean. I'm getting very good at reliving memories.

* * *

><p><strong>MY VOICE<strong>

Bella comes in and lies on my bed with me. She wraps her arms around my body, and I inhale the fresh scent of her hair. I cherish these moments alone with her. I feel like her husband again.

"Baby," she says with a tremor in her voice as she plays nervously with the button on my shirt. "We have to talk about it."

I know what she's going to say. I just don't want to face it.

She looks at me with such emotion in her eyes, and I wonder if she can see how fucking scared I am. This, in particular, marks the beginning of the end for me, and we both know it. Whatever denial I've been in up to this point is no longer there, and reality is unavoidable. My speech has been getting progressively worse, and I've been having a lot of difficulty controlling the muscles in my mouth. I've finally accepted the loss of my voice, even though it was the last way I could communicate. But this? This is different.

She pauses and then looks at me with tears in her eyes. "You almost swallowed your tongue, baby. I…we almost lost you."

I close my eyes and can feel the tears running down my face, remembering how it felt. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't move. I wish I would have died and spared them all this bullshit existence. But then I look at my beautiful wife and think how selfish I am. I want to live, even if it's just one more day, just to see her, to have her lie with me like she is now.

I gaze at her teary eyes, hoping to convey my acceptance of the situation. I have to be fed with a feeding tube. I'll never taste Bella's amazing cooking again.

* * *

><p><strong>LOVED<strong>

People astound me with their kindness, and it renews my faith that my daughter will grow up in a world worth living in. I've received countless letters and cards of support. My Facebook page has blown up with outpouring of love, and I'm stunned. I've tried to live my life as a good person. I've tried to be a role model for my daughter. But it's the change that happened after my diagnosis that is the most profound. I appreciate everything. I see the world differently. I see people differently. It took something like ALS to make me realize how fortunate I am, how much I'm loved. It warms my heart each time I read what my friends and family post to me. Hell, there are even posts from people I don't know, wishing me well. Their notes, although they only took but a second to write, will stay with me forever. I will never be able to tell those people how profoundly affected I am by their well wishes, but I will never forget them.

* * *

><p><strong>PEACE<strong>

I've never given much thought to dying. Why would I? I was young and healthy. Death was a long way off for me. My mother died when I was twenty, and I've spent a lot of time recently thinking about her. I'm not an overly spiritual person, but I wonder, will I see the face I only see in my memories or in pictures again?

I think about how I felt when my mother died. At first it was unbearable, the overwhelming feeling of loss. The knowledge that I'd never see her again filled me with sadness and regret that I hadn't fully appreciated every moment with her. But the pain lessened over time, and I was able to talk about her without getting upset. Was I forgetting about her? Was her influence in my life slipping away? Was that why I no longer actively felt her loss?

That line of thinking leads me down a path I'd rather not venture down. Will they forget me? Will their memories of me fade away?

Bella is in the other room making dinner, and the sounds of it, though commonplace, make me content. I remember fondly about how much I loved watching her cook. I can't do that anymore. I stay in my room now.

Elizabeth and Bella come in and sit on the edge of my bed. I'm happy. I'm always happy when they're with me.

Bella leaves to finish up dinner, leaving me alone with Elizabeth. I want to tell her how wonderful I think she is. I want her to know that I'll always love her. I want everything for her. Will you remember me, Elizabeth?

I say goodnight to my baby girl, knowing it is really goodbye.

When Bella comes back, she kisses me goodnight and climbs into the bed adjacent to mine. I watch her as she grips her pillow and closes her eyes. She looks so peaceful. Her rhythmic breathing comforts me. I'm resigned. I'm tired of fighting.

I take my last breath, and I am at peace.

I see Bella. I always see Bella.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: This was written as a tribute to my friend Jeremy, who recently passed away from ALS. He was an amazing guy with such zest for life, and he will be missed. I entered it into the Season of our Discontent contest and was so thrilled it won the Tissue Award. It was wonderful to be mentioned. Thanks to the judges for picking my story. **

**Thanks also to my betas, Viola Cornuta and TwiHart for the help and encouragement. Also, a big shout out to my pre-readers dana1779, Sunfeathers, ellierk, and scsquared who cheered me on. Finally, thanks to JenGreen03 for giving me some valuable feedback.**

**Thanks again for reading! **

**Jeremy, rest in peace, my friend.**


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